


Crown of Thorns

by liketolaugh



Series: Countdowns [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Countdown Week, Gen, Mostly character studies probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9336404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: There are the days the exorcists feel like they’ve been lined up as humanity’s martyrs, here to atone for the sins of the world. Other days, they forget it’s not normal. On the worst days, it’s both. Chapter 224 countdown.





	1. Chapter 1

If anyone had thought to ask Marie what his worst memory was, he wouldn’t have been able to answer.

He could still remember a time when it would have been easy. The day his family was killed, the day his Innocence activated – the day he learned of a whole new side of the world, and the role he was expected to take in it. The day his innocence was stripped away and, for a while, he stopped playing music for fun.

Four years later, he lost his sight in an akuma attack and choked on the stench of his dying comrades, his ears ringing with their cut-off screams.

And then, less than a month later, he listened to a little boy cry as he hacked apart his only friend for over half an hour, and he listened to the wheezing cries of the damned child that died into moans and then to silence.

So no. Marie wasn’t sure what his worst memory was anymore, and honestly, he preferred not to think about it.

* * *

It was silent now. Marie wove in and out of consciousness, a pounding headache overwhelming most of his higher thought processes and the assorted smells of death filling his nose. Distantly, he could make out the soft panting of the child who’d saved him, and the occasional gasping half-sobs.

He still didn’t even know his name.

He wanted to move, to get up and get out of there, and take the child with him – but he couldn’t seem to move, or even speak. His body, it seemed, had decided that it had had enough and failed him, just as it had weeks before.

Marie listened to the drip and ripple of water and blood, and then heard the boy sob, and then passed out again, wrung out and exhausted.

When he woke again, he was in a hospital bed, and he could hear voices. His headache had subsided, the pains of his body faded into a dull throb, but his heart was still thrumming as if he could still hear screams (and he thought that he could.)

“I’ll do my best to get you transferred soon. I’m sure you want out of here as quickly as possible.”

After a long moment, he identified the voice as Bak Chan, low and gentle, almost delicate. There was a tone of exhaustion, too, heavy and dragging.

“…You still want me to fight for you?”

Though he hadn’t heard it much, Marie could still identify the boy’s voice far more easily, to his own surprise – even as hoarse and toneless as it was. He could also just conceal a twitch of anger, which flickered down his spine and into his fingertips.

“I’m sorry,” Bak Chan answered, sounding genuinely contrite and miserable. “We have no choice in the matter. We need you.”

The boy was silent, and Marie continued to feign sleep, listening in. He wanted to know the boy’s fate perhaps as much as the boy himself did.

Or maybe, at the moment, more.

“…I don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry,” Bak Chan repeated, and Marie heard the rustle of clothing as he shifted uncomfortably. “We’ll do our best to help you. The Order has many resources available to it that can-”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be in the Order. I want to leave.”

Bak Chan took a deep breath, and Marie braced himself as well. “That isn’t an option, Yuu. You _will_ be part of the Order… one way or another.”

“…I know.”

And it wasn’t loud, it wasn’t forceful, it wasn’t even properly _angry –_ Yuu was clearly too exhausted and shell-shocked for that. But there was a darkness in it, a brewing resentment and threat of chaos that made Marie think of-

Think of Tiedoll, actually, who was perhaps the only man he knew who might be able to calm that storm.

Marie levered himself up slowly, wincing at the oncoming rush of a renewed headache, and turned his head to Bak Chan and Yuu.

“I’ll take him back with me,” he offered quietly, noticing absently that his own voice was a little hoarse as well. “My master – General Tiedoll – he’ll take care of him.”

He waited for a few moments, and after an extended pause, it was Yuu who replied.

“Fine.”

Though Marie didn’t know it, it would be the last thing he heard the boy say for a good long while.


	2. Chapter 2

In a way, it was almost familiar – travelling from city to town to city, doing odd jobs for money to buy food and pay off Cross’ _stupid_ debts, always moving and staying in inns and with old contacts.

It was just him and Tim this time, though. It made him miss Mana more than usual, even if it had long lost the fresh bite of grief. It also, at the same time, made him more determined than ever to find Cross. It just wasn’t the same without his dumb ass making things difficult (even if it was a good bit easier.)

He closed the door behind him, sweeping an absent gaze over the minimalistic inn room. A bed, a table, a candle, a window – and not much more besides. He set his bag aside and sat on the bed, and Timcanpy fluttered off his head to land on his lap, tilting up towards him in silent inquisition.

Allen smiled at him wearily, reaching over to rub the healing Innocence wound with one hand.

“Nothing, Tim,” Allen reassured him, shaking his head. “I was just thinking.”

“Gah,” Tim grunted doubtfully, with one hard flap of his wings for emphasis. Allen’s smile softened a little.

“I wonder how the others are doing,” he mused aloud, reaching for Tim, who growled in protest but reluctantly allowed Allen to grab a hold on his cheeks and tug lightly. “Lenalee must be worried… She and Kanda have been friends for a very long time, so I bet she misses him a lot. Lavi will have his work cut out for him trying to cheer her up… And he might be worrying, too. He’ll handle it, though.”

He sighed quietly, pulling a little harder as his thoughts darkened. Tim, uncharacteristically, only struggled a little. Allen didn’t notice.

“Marie should be able to take care of Miranda – he’ll have to miss Kanda too, but I can’t imagine him letting it destroy him, or anyone else, really. Maybe he can help look after all of them.” He tilted his head, looking at Tim but not seeing him. “Krory should be okay, I think. He has Lavi, after all, and he could make friends if he tried. He just needs to be brave. And Komui will look after all of them. I know he will.”

He sighed and released Tim, and Tim fluttered away to land just out of reach, but apparently was too concerned to hide away entirely. Allen didn’t look at him, silver eyes focused on nothing in particular.

“I wonder if Kanda and Alma are happy now,” he murmured, subconsciously pressing his hand against the wound in his side again, harder now. “This is what they always wanted, isn’t it? To be free.” He smiled, aching and wistful. “I hope they were at peace, in the end. They both deserve it.”

His smile faded, and he let himself curl up a little as his wounds throbbed painfully – both of them, from Mugen and from Crown Clown. He exhaled heavily for a moment, riding it out, and then let his mind drift again.

“I wonder if anyone will miss Link,” he whispered, feeling tears finally start to prick at his eyes, arms still curled around his torso. “He didn’t deserve to die like that, Tim. He didn’t deserve to die at all. I wish…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t think the others liked him, you know? But I wonder if they’ll even realize he’s gone.” He half-laughed, throat dry and voice rough. “I mean… I would never ask them to. They have enough to be dealing with. But it’s… it’s sad, Tim.” The next sound he made could have been either a sob or a laugh, and you never would have known the difference. “I’ll miss him, at least. I already do.” He took a deep breath. “I miss all of them.”

Tim tentatively hovered closer, and then nudged against Allen’s wet cheek, visibly concerned, before he drew back questioningly.

Allen smiled, reached up, and brushed his tears away with the palm of his hand.

“It’s okay, Tim,” he reassured the little gold golem. “This is for them, isn’t it?”

“Gah!”


	3. Day 4: By Your Side (Favorite Relationship)

Lavi often wondered if the Order would let them go if he and Bookman chose to leave.

Originally, it hadn’t even been a question. They were Bookmen; it was their right and their privilege to come and go as they pleased, and venture where history called. They’d only come to the Order because history was being made, and Leverrier knew it.

Now, Lavi was far less sure. The Order had done much worse things than the petty violation of international treaties to keep exorcists on staff.

Still, the question was ultimately irrelevant. They had no plans to leave. And with luck, they wouldn’t. Not unless Bookman realized how attached Lavi was becoming.

It was maybe for the best that Bookman hadn’t been in the infirmary when Lavi was protecting Lenalee.

He glanced over at Bookman, pen pausing in mid-motion as he thought. Even to him, Bookman was pretty unreadable a lot of the time – he had a lot of practice, the stupid old panda. So it was hard to say how much he was missing, and how much he was willfully ignoring for Lavi’s sake.

If, you know, Bookmen did that sort of thing.

He set the pen down.

“Old man?”

Bookman turned his gaze away from the book he was reading and onto Lavi, even and expectant. Lavi met it just as unreadably – or at least, he hoped so.

“How old were you when you decided to become a Bookman?” he asked.

Bookman set the book down and studied him for a long moment, a visible frown now on his face. In response, Lavi let his own expression fall into a half-grimace, reaching up to pull his bandana down and run his fingers through his hair.

“Almost thirty,” Bookman said at last, inclining his head toward him slightly. “I had nothing to hold me down and no inclination to form new ties, only a dedication to truth. It was rather a simple decision.”

Lavi nodded absently; he’d had much the same feeling when Bookman had first invited him along. No reason to stay, no prospect of finding any, and a whole world to explore. He tugged at his bandana, warm and thick around his neck.

An easy decision. An easy decision that was so much harder to justify when Lenalee was _looking_ at him, expectant and bright-eyed and trusting, when she was scolding him for being childish or when she was crying because she cared about all of them more than Lavi had ever cared for _anyone._

He didn’t want to give up his dream, damn it. He _didn’t._ But he couldn’t seem to scrub these thoughts from his mind, either. He couldn’t stop _wanting._

“I imagine it’s far more difficult in adolescence,” Bookman said after a moment, voice heavy, and Lavi’s head jerked up, eye widening slightly. “Still, boy- Remember. Nothing worth doing is easy.”

Lavi smirked, shrugged, and let go of the scarf around his neck.

“Course not,” he said easily. “Life ain’t like that.”

Bookman rolled his eyes and returned to his book, but Lavi knew that he wasn’t nearly as fooled as he pretended to be. Was nice of him to act, though.

Lavi looked down at the words forming on the page and wondered for a moment.

He loved to see the world. He loved to travel, to learn things he _knew_ no one else did or ever would. He liked recording what he saw, liked to remember, to pare everything down until there was nothing but the plainest truth of the world.

There was nothing he’d rather do than learn. Becoming a Bookman had been his dream, his goal for years. And he was almost there. He knew he was.

It was easy to think now, when it was just him and Bookman here. But he didn’t want to fail in the final rounds. That’d be- that’d be stupid.

Just as stupid as his dumb puppy-love crush on-

_Dammit._


End file.
